Night came with a weight that was not ordinary. The stars did not scatter lazily; they gathered, tense and bright, as though preparing to witness their own judgment.
The villagers sensed it first. Children who had been laughing near the river stopped mid-play, tilting their faces skyward. Dogs went silent, ears pricked. One by one, men and women stepped out from the inn, the stalls, the narrow streets, carrying lanterns that they forgot to light. They looked up. They could not help it.
Andy stood apart from them, near the field's edge. His wings were half-folded, the ember-light along their span dim but alive, a quiet reminder of the fire that had already ended one age of fear. His eyes never left the horizon. His breath was steady, but inside he felt the system waiting, pressing, ready to turn the page.
Nia came to his right, robes brushing grass, staff in hand. The sigils on her wrists shimmered faintly, like stars reflected in still water. She looked at him once, saw the calm in his jaw, and mirrored it. Aurelia came to his left, daggers sheathed, stride loose and defiant, her grin sharp even under starlight. She leaned back on her heels, arms crossed, as if daring the sky itself to try something foolish.
The hush deepened. The villagers gathered in a wide circle without being told, their faces lit silver by stars. No one spoke. It was not silence of fear—it was silence of worship, of a people sensing history twist above them.
Then the system broke it.
[Constellation Orion — Stage: COMPLETE]
Participants: Andy Aetherion Drakhael, Nia Everhart, Aurelia Moonveil
Tier III Progression: 100%
Bond Horizon: Stabilized
Status: Orion Constellation retired from active trial cycle.
A ripple moved through the heavens.
Orion, proud hunter of the night sky, blazed brilliant—then bent.
The villagers cried out. A farmer dropped his lantern into the grass; a mother clutched her daughter close. Above, the stars themselves seemed to shift, sliding on unseen rails. Orion's belt tilted, its bow unstrung, the hunter's stance unwound. The pattern unstitched like an old cloak, and then, impossibly, rewove itself.
Andy's chest tightened. He felt it in his ribs, as if each star was pulling on the chain inside him.
Nia's voice was reverent, breaking barely above a whisper. "It's… moving."
The system spoke again, precise, undeniable.
[System Evolution — Chain of Balance]
Current Map: Orion
Next Map: Unlocked
Designation: Andraste — The Twin Flame
Condition: Shared Horizon Achieved
The east stirred.
At first, faint tremors of light, like stars clearing their throats. Then arcs took shape: two ribbons of firelight curving toward each other, entwined but never clashing. Between them, three points ignited, forming a crown suspended in the dark. The pattern pulsed once, twice, then locked—bold, alive, undeniable.
Gasps swept the villagers. One boy pointed, his voice breaking. "The sky—it's redrawing itself!"
An old woman fell to her knees, eyes wet, whispering a prayer in a tongue older than anyone beside her remembered. The prayer faltered into sobs when she realized she wasn't begging anymore—she was thanking.
Nia gripped her staff tighter, her knuckles pale, eyes shining. "A new constellation… it's not myth. It's calling us." Her aura flared faint silver, glyphs hovering without her bidding.
Aurelia laughed, wild and low, tossing her hair back. "Andraste, the Twin Flame? Hah. Finally a name that suits us." She shot Nia a sidelong look, smirk sharp as moonlight on steel. "Try not to hog the pretty half."
Nia's lips curved, faint but cutting. "Only one flame is steady enough to last."
Andy let their rivalry spark and die in the air. His eyes stayed on the heavens. The Oathblade thrummed at his side, vibrating with recognition. His wings unfurled slightly, catching the new constellation's glow. The fire-feather scales reflected twin colors—gold and argent, dragon and phoenix balanced.
The system etched the final lines, for him alone.
[Constellation Andraste — The Twin Flame]
Stage: INITIATED
Condition: Triad Bond Saturation Met
Trial Access: 24h until horizon alignment
Buff Preview: Resonance Overflow (Triad Aura +150%)
Warning: Flame must be balanced or it consumes itself.
The stars flared, sealing the truth. Orion dimmed, its role complete, its lines dissolved into history. Andraste blazed, twin arcs holding each other aloft, crowned by three points like a promise.
Andy exhaled.
The villagers dropped to their knees in waves, not in terror, but in awe. Their children reached upward with small hands, as if trying to catch falling light. One girl whispered, "The sky has learned a new story."
Andy's jaw set, not from strain, but from knowing. The chain had shifted. The path was no longer Orion's.
Nia slipped closer, her hand brushing his. "We'll walk it together."
Aurelia leaned her shoulder into his, grin softer now, though no less sure. "Twin Flame, Dragon. Don't pretend you don't like the sound."
Andy didn't answer. He only lifted his gaze.
Above them, the sky had been rewritten. Orion had bowed out. And Andraste—the Twin Flame—rose, its fire already burning toward whatever trial waited next.
The villagers returned to their homes at last, leaving the field quiet save for the hiss of grass and the slow murmur of the river. Andy, Nia, and Aurelia remained at their camp. Fire crackled low, bread forgotten by its embers.
Nia had drifted to sleep first, her staff laid across her lap, lips parted in even breath. Aurelia fought longer, grin fading only when her exhaustion betrayed her, one hand still curled over a dagger even in dreams.
Andy stayed awake longest, watching the twin arcs blaze above the world, crowned by three stars that had never been there before. He didn't close his eyes—yet still the dream came.
The firelight faded. The ground beneath him melted into something older than stone, older than words. He stood on a field of nothing, endless, the same silence from the Hidden Chapter. But this silence didn't crush; it waited.
And then He was there.
The Creator did not arrive. He simply was, the way breath is already inside a chest before you notice. The figure was neither light nor shadow, but whatever part of the world loved most leaned toward Him.
Andy felt his heart stumble, not from fear but from recognition.
The voice was soft, but every syllable was iron.
"You still have a long way."
The words threaded into him, not as instruction but as truth he could not unhear.
Andy gripped the Oathblade instinctively. "You sealed the war once. You forged the chain. Why me?"
The Creator's presence bent, as if a smile had been considered but not worn.
"Because chains are not kept by the hand that forges them. They are kept by those who choose to hold."
Andy opened his mouth to answer, but the next words struck like a blow:
"Be strong. There is another above me."
The silence quivered. The stars in the void bent inward, as if ashamed to listen. Andy felt his breath falter, his chest tighten. Another… above even Him?
The Creator's shape wavered, unraveling like mist over dawn.
"You will meet what waits beyond constellations. When that day comes, strength will not be enough. Remember: ties, not flames, keep the world from breaking."
The dream shivered, folding inward, and Andy gasped awake.
The campfire was embers. Nia stirred faintly, Aurelia snored softly, the river ran on. Above them, Andraste — The Twin Flame burned steady.
Andy lay back on the grass, eyes locked on the crown of three stars. The Creator's words pressed against his skull, heavy, unavoidable.
Another… above me.
Sleep did not return. The Dragon-Phoenix watched the sky until dawn bled across it, calm but unshaken, carrying a weight no one else yet knew.